


Close to Perfect

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:52:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7450246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s tired, but not more than usual; he’s pushing himself, but not more than usual, not the way Shuu’s been doing it over the past few weeks, taking on extra shifts at work in the middle of his study period and pretending he has just as much time to spend with Tatsuya as usual when he’s running himself into the ground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close to Perfect

Shuu’s brother greets Tatsuya with his usual whirlwind of small talk and life updates crammed into one breath, something about a school spelling bee and an Xbox game and sandwiches, before Tatsuya can get a word in edgewise. As he prepares to speak, Shuu’s brother preempts him, already answering the question he was going to lead up to anyway.

“My brother’s still asleep.”

“Sorry,” says Tatsuya. “Should I come back later?”

“Nah. I don’t know if you guys made plans or something but he’ll get mad at me if I tell you to. Want to watch me and my friend play video games?”

“I’d like to, but I think I should check on Shuu,” Tatsuya says, inclining his head.

Shuu’s brother shrugs. “Okay.”

“Where’s your sister?” Tatsuya says.

“Soccer practice. Mom’s picking her up later.”

He bounds off to the living room, yelling something about not taking the best weapons, and he’s slammed the living room door shut behind him by the time his friend’s begun to reply. Tatsuya shakes his head. Shuu might have woken up just from that already—but then again, knowing how loud Shuu’s siblings usually are and how exhausted Shuu had sounded on the phone last night it probably hasn’t registered at all.

The second stair creaks under his foot the way it always does; he can see Shuu’s bedroom door halfway down the hall, slightly ajar. Tatsuya pauses on the landing; the floor is nearly silent. The sound of cheesy laser guns punctuated by shouts floats up from the living room, muffled by the doors and walls and corners and the space between. He steps into Shuu’s room and shuts the door behind him, drowning out what remains of the sound from downstairs, replacing it with the low hum of the air conditioner.

It’s freezing; Shuu’s rolled up beneath the heavy blankets, face turned away from the window unit. Tatsuya pads silently over to the bed and sits down beside him; Shuu doesn’t stir. Even asleep, he looks tired, the marks of stress and overwork clear on his face. His mouth is curved into a half-smirk that would look mean if Tatsuya didn’t know him—it almost did at first, but he betrays too much of his natural kindness for Tatsuya to keep that impression of him. And his face, as a whole—mouth, cheekbones, the shape of his eyes, the curve of his brows—really is quite handsome.

It’s not often Tatsuya gets to just look at him like this; he can’t do it when Shuu’s awake, or when they’re both falling asleep, or even in the half-light when he used to slip off in the night without waking him up (though he’d always steal a glance or two). He reaches across Shuu’s body to turn down the air conditioner and Shuu rolls over, tangling the blankets into even more of a mess as his face lands on Tatsuya’s thigh.

Tatsuya smooths his hair back, running a fingertip over Shuu’s ear, and Shuu’s eyes flutter open.

“Shit. What time is it?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tatsuya says. “Go back to sleep; you need it.”

Shuu twists around, wrenching one arm from the grasp of the blanket and grabbing Tatsuya’s hand.

“So do you.”

Tatsuya shrugs—he’s tired, but not more than usual; he’s pushing himself, but not more than usual, not the way Shuu’s been doing it over the past few weeks, taking on extra shifts at work in the middle of his study period and pretending he has just as much time to spend with Tatsuya as usual when he’s running himself into the ground.

“Please?” says Shuu.

His voice is thick with sleep; he’s squinting in the thin lines of sunlight that escape the bindings of the venetian blinds; he squeezes Tatsuya’s hand. Tatsuya can’t say no.

He grabs the covers from Shuu and pulls at them; they give a little bit, enough for him to crawl under and press his body up against Shuu’s.

“Your feet are freezing,” Shuu murmurs.

“Your room is freezing,” Tatsuya replies.

He kisses Shuu’s neck as Shuu’s arms wrap around him and he feels Shuu’s whole body sigh and his toes curl and he knows Shuu’s already mostly back to sleep. And there’s no reason for Tatsuya not to join him now.

He closes his eyes; it’ll take a while. But it’s easier when he can focus on matching the rhythm of his breathing to Shuu’s, and when the warmth that surrounds him is fuzzy and pleasant, a little like being tipsy on an afternoon in July. And it’s that kind of feeling that carries away his thoughts; he’s dimly aware of the air conditioner and of noises from outside and of Shuu lying next to him, but he’s thinking about nonsense, about TV shows that all blend together inside his head, momentarily making sense until he thinks about them a little too hard. He’s not sure how much time has passed (five minutes? Two hours?) but when Shuu begins to shift against him and stretch his arms, the trance snaps away.

Tatsuya yawns and rolls his shoulders. “That was nice.”

“Mm.”

Shuu’s smiling at him, looking far more awake than he had before. His hands are traveling down Tatsuya’s torso, stopping at his waist, his thumbs hooking under Tatsuya’s t-shirt to briefly press at his skin, and then he’s palming Tatsuya’s ass.

“You woke up for this?” Tatsuya says.

“Kinda,” says Shuu (he looks guilty but completely unashamed, which Tatsuya can’t exactly disapprove of).

“The door’s not locked,” Tatsuya says. “Your brother’s right downstairs.”

Shuu pauses. “Do you not want to?”

His hands are slack; his face is serious. Tatsuya kisses him lightly.

“Of course I want to. I’m just saying.”

“Well,” says Shuu. “I’m willing to take that risk.”

He burrows his head under the covers; he lifts Tatsuya’s shirt halfway up and begins to kiss his stomach, up his torso and onto his sternum and—yeah, fuck it; he’s still sleepy but this is still fun, even if they don’t get anywhere with it. Tatsuya slides his own foot up Shuu’s leg, and the sigh that hangs on Shuu’s lips against his skin is sweet and raw like the taste of vine-fresh strawberries, close enough to perfect that he’s going to do it again.

**Author's Note:**

> hbd niji~


End file.
